Lycan
by kengi
Summary: Set in 1950s Oklahoma, a small town of Elmridge, and a Reservation town two miles away. Native American Werewolves, both Full wolf form and Hybrid, there will be Mature language and sexual reference. NOT A TWILIGHT STORY, but could be in the universe.


The story is set in 1950s Oklahoma, the idea is that there is a small town of Elmridge, and a Reservation town two miles away. Native American Werewolves, both Full wolf form and Hybrid, there will be Mature language and sexual reference. Please do not read unless you are able to enjoy gay man love and sexual relations, both as human and as beasts with human thoughts. This is just the first little snippet of a continuing series that I hope to work on and post here. It's an original story, but it's not one of my best, more of just a ramble/doodle for now. Please review if you like it, or if you have any suggestions. Oh and just to let you know up front, Jacob and Harry are not a couple, just friends.

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He was the most magnificent creature Henry had ever seen, he had golden eyes, with long thick scars across his face. He was eight feet tall and thick with muscle and fur. In the twilight the creature's teeth glistened, white daggers with blood dripping down from them. The beast's fur was long around his neck, blending from his wolf like head down his back. His forearms had thick fur as well, forming tuffs at the elbows, even his tail was a bit on the fluffy side. His ears were ripped, one ear half missing the other barely torn at the tip.

There were others like him, almost like a pack of wolves, in sync with each other. The handsome creature, as Henry saw him, guarded his kill, gathering the deer's half decapitated neck in his strong jaws. Mr. Conner's raised his gun shooting, firing at the other beasts, chasing off as many as he could. Henry's own hands shook as he held the rifle, a mix of intense fear and excitement. As Henry turned to his father he noticed the creature holding the buck he shot race into the forest at in human speed. As quickly as they had come the beasts were gone, disappearing into the thick darker areas of the woods.

Henry took some breaths, and examined the area stained with blood, the only thing left of his kill were hairs from the buck, and some long black hairs from the creature.

"What the fuck was that Rodge?!"

Henry's father, Rodger Conners, turned to James shaking his head. "Fuck if I know, Aint no body gonna believe a story of damned wolf-men." Henry watched intently as his dad bent down and touched a bloody spot in the direction of where they had run off to. "I think I got the son-a-va-bitch, though!" He smiled at his friends, "Henry, get over here!" Henry rushed over to his dad, looking at the trail the blood had created. "See this piece here?" He held up a furry strip of flesh about the size of a thumb, "Got him in the leg. We can still track this monster down, see what this thing really is."

Henry nodded, the other men, Billy, James and Doc Peters following Rodger into the woods, rifles at the ready. The blood went for about another two miles, the amount of blood on the ground becoming more and more, as if it was an endless fountain. Henry put his hand on his face, feeling sick from the amount of blood covering the ground and trees, thinking the creature must have lost at least 8 gallons.

Finally Doc Peters found it, the creature was tearing at it's flesh in obvious pain. As he tore open the fur the skin of a man was underneath. Henry grabbed his father's hand, something he hadn't done since he was in grade school, and was relieved to feel a small squeeze of encouragement back. The creature had turned over his face covered with dark black hair, his body naked and tan. The only part of his still a beast were his legs and arms, that dug into the earth as he coughed out blood, and Henry noticed the wound in his abdomen as well as the leg.

James braved getting closer to him, turning the man over with his foot, then jumping back as he saw the body of a red skinned native. "It's- It's-!!"

Rodger looked on with disgust and dropped Henry's hand, putting his hand to the rifle instead. "It's an injun, he worked at my farm. We called him Joe."

Henry knew his real name, "Jehuey…" The man had worked on the farm for near ten years, he was no stranger to the Conners. Jehuey had been the one to introduce Henry to his best friend, and now the man lay in a pool of his own blood, his hands extended into un natural claws.

Billy, who hadn't said much the whole time spoke up, "He's still movin'."

Doc Peters pushed past James and put his hands on the wound, and tried to get Jehuey to speak, "Boy what in tarnation are ya doing out here, like this?!" Henry and Rodger came around, Henry putting his hands on the wound to the gut. Henry could feel the intestines that the shot gun had opened up, trying to stuff them back in as they slipped out to one side.

The Indian coughed loudly and Henry could see his canine teeth were long, almost making his whole mouth protrude. When he spoke it sounded like he had water in his lungs, "White man's reign will fall…"

Rodger raised his eye brows looking confused, and troubled. He bent down to Jehuey, "You son of a bitch, what are you? A Demon?!" To that the Indian shifted his face his nose becoming thick and elongated with his mouth. He snapped towards Rodger.

"Dear god!" Rodger jumped back.

"White man's god wont save you from the lycanthrope." Jehuey swallowed once then fell back his body returning to that of a Cherokee man. Henry shook Jehuey, trying to see if the man could possibly be alive, but he was gone.

"What the hell was he talking about?" James had his hand on his head, rubbing his neck as he brought it down.

Billy again spoke softly, "Sun's coming up. Think their still out there?"

Doc Peters seemed to shake as he scooted away from the body. "Rodge… What… What do we do?" Everyone looked to , expecting him to have all the awnsers.

Rodger Conners was a Preacher, a husband, a father, a farmer, in that order. He was someone the town of Elmridge depended on. He could tell you when rain was coming near to the minute, he could sight a verse from any part of the bible, new and old, but for this problem he had no grand speech, nor sermon he could pull. There was nothing he could say to ease the minds of his friends, nor to give strength to his terrified son. For a man who leadership came naturally, the only thing Rodger Conners could do was to give orders. "Go to your families, keep your wives safe. We'll talk about this once we've had a day to think on it. I don't want none of ya to start stirring thing that ought not to be stirred. Ya hear Henry? Don't say a word, to no one."

When Henry cam home he went straight to his bed, he thought to himself as the morning sun rose, making the fields outside his window glow orange. It was the big one's eyes that were getting to him, they were burned into his head. Every time he closed his eyes they stared at him, golden orbs with black slits. He had just stood there, growling at Henry, but the boy had seen no intent to carry through with the threat. Henry knew it was a foolish notion to believe the beast had a softness to him. He'd been licked more times then he'd like to admit from petting what he shouldn't. His first dog Shamus bit him when he was four for getting between the dog and his meal. When Rodger Conners saw the old Sheppard dog snap Henry's hand, the man nearly beat the dog to death. Rodger wasn't gonna let nothing ever hurt his only son, but Henry had calmed his dad's fury and saved the mongrel. That was one of the few times Henry had cried, desperately for his dog, and it near broke his father's heart. The way Rodger Conner's looked at Henry that day, was a look Henry never wanted to see again. He knew his father would someday see Henry as he truly was…a sissy, a girl, a low down yellow-belly that wasn't worth spittin' on.

All Henry could think about the next day a school was of going up to the reservation. It was a small piece of land, maybe all of ten miles that was left for the Indian people by McNeil O'Conner, Henry's great-grandfather. The man had took great pains and much scrutiny in giving part of the Conners' farming land to the people the law had forgotten about, but the treaty stayed and the land was forever owned by the redskins. The road to the reservation was an easy trek for Henry, only a two mile walk from the ranch.

Henry had to go and see Jacob, he'd be able to tell him if Jehuey was really dead, or if it all had been a long scary dream. When the bell tolled he ran out as fast as he could, rushing towards the reservation. As he walked on the reservation soil he got more dirty looks this what was usual and Henry wondered if it had been right of him to come over.

Jacob was already on his porch when Henry approached, motioning the boy over to him. Henry jogged up the steps and Jacob pushed him inside, "Jacob what's-"

Jacob put his hand over Henry's mouth and shushed him, looking over to the kitchen area to see if his parents had heard Henry come in. They were still talking to someone out on the back patio, a hulk of a man was sitting in a chair that could barely contain him, but before he could hear anything they might be talking about Jacob threw him in his room. "Picked the worst day to come Henry! Chief is on the war path, says the white man murdered Jehuey out in the woods."

Henry bit his lip, "Why does he think that?"

Jacob looked at Henry his face showing concentrated confusion and anger, " Who else would kill a red skin? We have FAR too many problems to be killing our own."

Henry swallowed, "What are they gonna do?"

Jacob laid back in his bead, "Not much we can do. It ain't like we can go to Sheriff Johnson and get it investigated. It happened outside of reservation land, so OUR laws can't reach it. It's like a pot of boiling water here, you can only keep the lid on so long. I think you should go home, Henry, you might get hurt staying here too long."

Henry shook his head, "What if…what if it was self defense? Like Jehuey was trying to-"

Jacob sat up and glared at Henry, "What?! Were you there?! How would you know? Henry you act like your our friend, but your just like your dad!"

Henry frowned and came closer to Jacob, putting his finger in his face, "Don't talk bad about my pa just because-!" Henry stopped himself.

Jacob took a breath and huffed it out, "I know, I know. We shouldn't be fighting each other. You're my best friend, Henry and the only one I could trust about my…problem."

"Were soul brothers…" He sat next to the native American teenager, putting an arm around his shoulder, "You know I'd never say nothing, even if yous and me was feudin'.

Jacob smiled and leaned into Henry, "Yeah… me to brother, me too…" He shook his head and got up off the bed, "Still you should get out of here, before someone tells the chief your in the reservation."

Henry nodded, "When can I see you again?"

"Give it a few days, I'll find you." They hugged and Henry left the safety of Jacob's room to go home. The walk back was uneventful, and when crossing the house to sneak out, Henry noticed the family was gone, along with the big man. He kicked a pine cone that lay in the road, shuffling his feet as he took the long walk back home.

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Thank you for reading, hope you enjoyed!

Inuka Jacksonada


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